Angels In Waiting
by Brennanite47
Summary: Set during "Sein und Zeit". Everyone has a breaking point and Mulder's reached his. Can Scully help Mulder survive something that's greater than both of them: his own grief?


_**So I just watched "Sein und Zeit" and there's the scene where Mulder kinda breaks down and Scully's holding him in this awkward hug and it's really super cute, so I took the end of that scene and kinda ran with it. **_

**_This whole thing is Scully's POV, and if you've ever seen that phenomenal scene, you'll totally get this. This is also about as angsty as I can get. Happy reading and I hope you all enjoy. :)_**

He knew the truth hurts. He'd spent his entire life chasing it, trying to grab it, all the time it being just out of reach. And I followed him through the darkness, pulling him out and mending his wounds when it was necessary. I'm still not exactly sure why I followed him through it all; why I started, that is. Was it my sense of loyalty to those that I believed fought for a noble cause, or the simple fact that I found him to be a decent man despite what all others believed of him?

It doesn't matter anymore. The reality remained that I stuck by him. I donned the nickname 'Mrs. Spooky', put on my badge, and went stargazing with him on more occasions than I dared count. I did this knowing that everything he believed in I considered to be an 'extreme possibility'. Over the years, I've seen almost everything and anything that term applies to, and the repercussions of going in search of it.

I was no stranger to the loss one suffered when they played such a deadly game, and neither was he. However, death, by all means, doesn't always have to happen for an apparent cause.

Kneeling on the floor of his apartment, I knew he wasn't going to believe me right away that his mother had taken her own life. He didn't see it as fathomable. To him, there had to be a third party involved, and I could see why he would want to think that way. By telling himself there was someone at fault, someone to blame for the misfortune, it took a little of the guilt off of himself that he'd never called her after he said he would.

I knew that question taunted his already fragile mind. _'What would've happened if I'd just made that call?' _I remember asking myself similar questions my sister died. There was a major difference between the two events, however. I _did_ have someone to blame for my sister's death, whereas he had no one.

The look on his face after I'd told him the news was one of a lost, scared sheep, looking for a way back home. He rose his fists in anger, almost appearing as if her were going to strike me. I didn't flinch. I was the only one he trusted, more than that, I was the only one he had at the moment. Before I could blink, he was resting his head against the coffee table, the muffled and soft sobs just loud enough to go through my ears, reach down into my chest, and shatter my heart into pieces I couldn't care to pick up at the moment.

I brought him into my arms as completely as I could. The ability to breathe escaped me as he crushed his body into mine, trying simply to force his mind to know that there was another human being there, one that cared what happened to him. I didn't mind, though. The strength of his arms wrapped so tightly around me was worth the lack of oxygen. Despite our current situation, I could die a happy woman in this suffocating sanctuary.

To answer your question,…yes. I, Dana Katherine Scully, am willingly and irrevocably forever more, in love with Fox William Mulder, the man that was in my arms. The one man I couldn't have I had to go and fall for. But that was me and my dumb luck.

I wished I knew where along the road I'd slipped down that miniscule fork into Lover's Lane, but I couldn't ever place it at an exact moment. I'd started slipping down into that sinkhole years ago. I once told him he was the only one I'd ever put my career on the line for, but this alone isn't true. I would and have killed for him, I would die for him, and I'd sacrifice my own skin before I'd let him his. Somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind, I knew that he'd do the same for me, but the context was different.

He is the Romeo to my Juliet, and I am the Chrissy Snow to his Jack Tripper.

I don't know how we did it, but we'd both moved from the floor to the couch. It was then that I realized that this probably looked a little too intimate. Here we were, me in his lap as he cried into my shoulder as we held one another. My heart, which was already beating quite loudly, started to feel like a bass drum pounding in my ears and I felt my face warm up. If the circumstances were any different, I'd be hiding the blush as fast as I could before he could notice. This wasn't a time to be self-conscious, though. All he cared about at the moment was that I was there with him.

I searched my mind for something to say. The pain just seemed to be rolling off him in waves; some more powerful than others. It killed a part of me to see him like this. I wished I could've taken that agony from him, put it in a box, hell, bring it upon myself. Anything just to stop the tears that soaked that corner of my shirt.

"…Mulder…?" It was the first word I'd spoken in nearly a half hour.

He said nothing. His sobs had quieted to the point where the only sound that could be heard in the silent apartment was the periodical harsh sniffle that broke me even more than the sobbing. The silent torture that plagued his mangled heart was something I knew I would feel too. Whenever one of us was hurting, the other was, too. I just hadn't prepared myself for how much it would actually affect me. I'd been holding back my own tears for as long as I could, but the dam broke. I held him tighter, if that was possible, to hide the fact that I was crying too.

His grip on me began to loosen, slowly but surely, but I knew there wasn't a possibility that he was feeling better yet. I'd known him for seven years, most of which he was pretty passive for. But Fox Mulder didn't take things that mattered lightly. Even when he tried to hide the fact that he was in a panic or meltdown situation, I knew. It was like a sixth sense I'd developed over the years of conspiracy theories and chasing things that go bump in the night.

It was almost too quiet now. His forehead was buried into my neck deeply enough that I knew he felt the pulse that beat strong and rampantly there. I had to break the silence if only to stop the ringing in my ears.

"Are you gonna be okay?" A moronic question, yes, but at least it was better than nothing. I had no idea what he was thinking about, which scared me more than I was willing to admit.

He breathed in, as if he was going to say something, but the air caught in his lungs and no sound came out. Exhaling, he spoke, "Could you stay here? Just for tonight?"

My muscles stiffened again. This time, it wasn't in discomfort or unease. It was the pure fact that in those simple seven words, I could feel the agony of his nightmare seep into me and rest just beneath themy skin.

"I can't go home…not tonight…not knowing that your hurting like this." I shook my head. My fingers trailed absently through the soft hairs at the base of his neck.

I am a lot of things. I'm a doctor, an officer of the law, someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone of faith, and so on and so forth. Very rarely did I ever get to be just a friend to someone that needed me. Teamed with the pre-existing mixed emotions that had been making my heart and my head go to war against each other over the past few years, It was almost impossible not to slip into the comfortable role.

Indulging my heart a little, I pressed a kiss to his temple and rested my head against the top of his. The pliable spikes gave way to my the weight of my head while the few that still stuck up tickled my nose. I could've cared less, though. His scent was so unique and intoxicating I couldn't move away from him even if I'd wanted to.

"Scully?" I felt more than heard the vibrations coming from him and pulse into my neck.

"Yeah?" I replied lazily. I was happy he was finally talking to me, even if what he said was only one word responses and incomplete sentences.

"My legs are falling asleep." he chuckled weakly.

I had to smile too and scooted off to sit next to him, but I was internally reluctant to lose the amazing contact. As soon as we weren't touching anymore, I became as cold as an icicle. I knew it was evil and selfish, and it made me feel awful after I thought it.

He rubbed at his eyes and rubbed away the crusted saline that had dried in the corners. I tried to wrap my small hand around his huge shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. "Mulder, you're gonna get through this." I said, attempting to cheer him up.

His hand took possession of mine, engulfing it in his grasp that was twice the size of mine. I struggled to control the electricity that shot through me from his innocent touch. He nodded absently, lost his own thought. He seemed to take a second look a me, then turned his face away.

"I'm sorry about your shirt." he droned.

I looked down to see the stain that was there now. I pulled the wet fabric away from away and let it fall back to my shoulder. "Doesn't matter. It'll dry." I shrugged.

He still wouldn't look at me. "You didn't need to see that."

I felt the air leave my lungs, then come back again. "Hey," I brought my hand up to the side of his face, forcing him to meet my eyes. "Everyone has a breaking point, a vulnerability a some time or another. It's not the most pleasant thing to see, but I understand it."

I did, too. I'd lost a parent in the time we'd known each other, albeit under different circumstances and it was probably a little easier for me to deal with than him. My dad had died from a coronary; something uncontrollable and completely out of my hands. His mother had overdosed on sleeping pills; something that could've been prevented.

He kissed the inside of my wrist and apparently stopped to sniff at the light perfume I'd dabbed on that morning. (honestly, was the man _trying_ to drive me crazy?!)

"You're an angel." he whispered to me.

My vision was blurring fast when I told him that a hot shower would do wonders for his kinked muscles. He seemed to think it was a good idea, too, and told me he'd be back in about ten minutes. He knew better than to start the argument about who slept where. It was a pact we'd made. Whenever one of us stayed at the other's apartment, there would be no giving up of beds. I watched him disappear into the bathroom and the water start to run.

'_Good, just enough time to put your head back on straight,' _I reprimanded myself. Slipping out of my coat, I decided to get comfy. I knew I wasn't going anywhere at least for the rest of the night. I took off my boots, too, as I started to pace back and forth.

'_He doesn't think of you like that, Dana. You're his best friend, his touchstone. Of course he's going to think you're Wonder Woman right now. You're all he has!' _I was yelling inside my head. I raked my nails through my hair and flopped down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

I knew he meant nothing by it when he called me an angel. It was merely a means of vocalizing how appreciative he was of me at that moment. The words didn't stop my stomach from overflowing with butterflies, though.

How he does those things to me, I'll never know. I was never naïve or girly in a sense that I fell all over men when they came along. I prided myself on being down to Earth and knew the fact that there were, essentially, three types of guys, as Melissa had taught me when we were teenagers. There were bad guys, good guys, and great guys, and you could always tell if a good guy was great if he swept you off your feet.

This left me to wonder where Mulder fit into that. I didn't have to think long before I came to the conclusion that he was in a league all of his own in my book. I felt that chill in the air again and realized I would've loved to have those arms around me again.

That was how he found me when he came back, too. My trance-like state must've provided him some amusement because I came out of my little coma to the sound of his chuckle.

"You staring at the food that's probably up there?" he asked as he went back into his room and disappeared into the closet.

I sat up, "No, but I wish I was. Would've given me some kinda scenery."

He shrugged and set out the blankets and the pillow on the couch. We whispered our good-nights and I gave him one last hug, which he thanked me for with a genuine smile. He turned to the bedroom and closed the door gently behind him.

The faintest of smiles touched my lips as I unfolded my favorite striped blanket that he always had clean for me should I ever unknowingly fall asleep on his couch. It was fleece with blocky patterns on it. If I were to see it in a store, I would think it was as ugly as dirt. But it was so warm and had been ingrained with his scent over the years. It felt like I was being held by him again.

I fluffed the pillow up and placed it at the opposite end of the couch as the fish tank. There was a calming effect to watch the fish swim back and forth inside the contained habitat I could never really identify, but I appreciated it. Before long, I felt myself slipping into a much needed sleep.

_*creak…creak…creak…thud!*_

I rolled over a little too far, forgetting where I was in my comatose state. Mulder's couch wasn't wide enough to complete my rotation and found myself falling face first to the area rug that was on the floor beside. At least it was some kind of padding.

"Ugh…" I groaned, being forced into consciousness. I pushed myself up off the floor and pushed the hair from my eyes. Thankful I'd missed the coffee table, I looked over at the VCR.

_2:53 a.m._

Great. There wasn't going to be any getting back to sleep for me anytime soon. I was paranoid about falling again. I knew I rolled every once in awhile when I slept. I had since I was a child. It's also why I never fought for the top bunk when the opportunity presented itself.

I tucked my arm underneath my head and laid back on the couch, sighing in frustration.

"Scully?" the sound of my name would usually have me bolting around to see who it was. In this case, I was pretty certain who it was.

He came up and stood beside me, a blanket of his own wrapped around his shoulders and flannel pajama pants seemed to be his sleepwear of choice.

As it seemed to be a theme this evening, I asked the stupid, "What are you doing up?"

He picked up my legs, sat down, and eased them down over his thighs. "Couldn't sleep. I heard a thump out here and thought I'd might come and investigate." he smiled, but I wasn't buying.

"Have you slept at all, Mulder?" I could hear and feel the concern dripping from my throaty, just-woke-up voice.

He went to lie at first, I could see him hesitate even in the dark, moonlit and fish tank lit room. He then shook his head, confirming my suspicions. He'd been laying in that bedroom for the past five hours alone, wide-awake, and lamenting.

I sat up, suddenly feeling bad that I'd been passed out this whole time and oblivious to him. I leaned into him gently, resting my head on his shoulder. There was no other purpose for this other than to let him know that I was here for him to talk to when he was ready.

He laced his fingers through mine, seeking the support I offered. "I've been thinking, Scully."

That was never a good sentence coming from Fox Mulder. It was usually followed by something I didn't like. I tried to beat him to the punch. "I know, Mulder, but you have to know that she was only trying to ease your pain. I think she knew that you couldn't stand to see her weaken before she went." It sounded morbid, yes, but it was the only way I could think to phrase it.

"Actually, that wasn't what I was going to say." he stated. I looked up at him as he continued. "I mean, I was thinking about that for the longest time, and I know she meant well. You're right, I couldn't see her go down that road. Still doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, though."

"Salt in a wound, I know." I reassured and squeezed his hand a little. "If that wasn't what you were going to say, what were you thinking about then?"

"Life…" he trailed off.

It was a start. "What about life?"

"About how it's too short…and how…" I felt him sigh.

"How what?" I prodded.

"About how we can let each day pass us by, one after another, and…and not tell someone something that they need to hear." His muscles went rigid.

My breathing hitched just a little. "Who haven't you told what, Mulder?"

I heard his tongue detach from the roof of his mouth, the wet, sticky sound as he tried to formulate in his mind what had been going on inside of him. "It's you, Scully. It's something I haven't told you."

Turning to face him, I met his dark green eyes with my own lighter ones. "What is it?" The simple words left me with more than a little effort.

The darkness that blanketed us made it more than a little hard to tell what he was thinking. I felt his hand that didn't have a grip on my own reach up to cup my neck, his fingers skittering over the small scar on the back of it. I knew he still blamed himself for that, for everything that had happened to me over the course of our partnership. It made him flinch and withdraw himself from me, muttering "I can't."

"Mulder, talk to me." As he got up, I followed. He leaned up against the wall, looking as if he was trying to make sense of something. I stepped into his personal space and wrapped my arms around him. I felt under the blanket that he wasn't wearing a shirt, and I nearly melted into the warmth I found there. "Please, Mulder…let me in."

He breathed into me, probably sniffing the faint scent of my shampoo from the morning before when I washed my hair last. I'd wanted this, longed for it, ached with everything that I was to try to get it. None of this meant that I was ready for it.

"I love you."

The simple sentence shot my mind from barely functioning to the world's fastest supercomputer, thinking a million different things that went a billion different directions. But there was only one thing that my brain seemed willing to let everything boil down to.

Denial.

"I…I don't think that's possible, Mulder. I don't think you love me." My heart was furious for saying it, but it was only the first round.

"I know what you're going to say. I'm in a lot of pain right now and that I'm only saying it because you've been trying to ease it. But that's not true. I've loved you for years, Scully, and I've been too big of a chicken-shit to admit it." he was now the one that followed me as I was distancing myself from him. Why, I still don't know.

"But we're polar opposites." My brain was still forcing me to argue. "Fire and ice, yin and yang." I sat on the couch again, holding my head as it started to throb.

"Yin isn't complete without yang. And as for fire and ice, Scully, if that's what we are, we make steam." he sat next to me, leaning down for the kiss that would seal my fate. I was almost ready to give in.

Almost.

I sprang away from him at possibly the last second. Backing away from him, I fell into the wall we'd just been at seconds ago.

"Mulder, you can't just do this to me. I trust you more than anyone in this world. I've loved you, been pining for you, for so many years now. I still do, but I'm not going to be anyone's pity fuck."

I still have no idea where any of that came from, but I found myself yelling at him without thought. When I thought about what I said, I sank to the floor, embarrassed that all that had come out that way.

I felt his hand come under my chin a few seconds later, bringing my eyes to meet his again. I didn't want to at this point, but I didn't have much choice. My watery eyes looked up into his own dry ones, and I felt that our roles were reversed.

"I don't want to 'pity fuck' you. I never wanted any such thing." he stated slowly and clearly as his nose brushed against mine. "You deserve better than that."

My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my kneecaps. My eyes leaked the silent tears while I remained speechless. My throat was too tied up in knots to form a coherent thought.

"I love you more than I can ever tell you, Scully, and I have too much respect for you to do that to you. I don't want to fuck my partner. I want to make love to the woman I have in my hands right now." he whispered so gently, so tenderly that I went limp against him.

His lips closed over mine, and there was nothing I could do but surrender to the feelings he'd been creating in me for longer than I'd care to admit. I returned the kiss with an equal, if not greater, passion than his own. His tongue pressed against my closed lips, lightly asking for permission inside. I granted almost a little too promptly.

It was too soon when I broke it. "Mulder, this can't be a one time thing. I can't go back to being just friends after this. It's just…I just can't." I buried my face into his neck.

"This isn't a one time thing, Scully. It isn't a possibility with us." he reassured me and kissed me again.

He picked me up and brought me into his bedroom, kicking the door closed with his foot. I was a little nervous that I was rebound, but he was all around me. His scent, his touch, his taste that still lingered on my lips. All of it put together outweighed my concerns. I knew he wouldn't do wrong by me.

Mulder set me on the bed, my head resting on the pillows. He brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his eyes trailing over me in the dark. "God, you're so beautiful, Dana."

His use of my first name sent goose-bumps rising up over my skin. He never used my first name unless he thought something was life-threateningly important. His kisses were going to my head. It had been so long since I'd felt the tension and heat of a man's body. At that particular moment, I couldn't remember a time when I'd wanted to. The need had never been this bad before.

His lips left a trail of fire down my skin as he moved down my neck, finding the pulse point there. He traced it with his tongue before drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it. The blood roared in my ears as he moved even lower. My shirt buttons popped open willingly under his hands. He was careful not to touch my skin until he could spread his entire hand over me. Pushing the flaps of fabric to the side, he exposed me to his sight.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen it before. There had been an instance about a year ago where we'd been forced into biohazard lockdown and we had to shower under separate faucets not ten feet from each other. He'd turned around and looked at me, and no matter how many times I tried to force that image out of my mind, it still haunted my dreams. The look in his eyes was an unmistakable adoration.

It was the same look he was giving me now as my shirt slipped from my shoulders, leaving me only in a black bra on top. His fingers explored the new territory as his lips returned to mine. I took my own turn by pushing the blanket off his shoulders, exposing the muscles I always knew were there, but never got to touch. I trailed my hands up his back and over his strong arms and linked my fingers around his neck.

"You're so tense." I breathed in a girly voice I didn't know I had.

He gave me the first genuine smile I had seen on his face in too long. "Well, maybe you can help me work some of that out."

Everything he did drove me mad. I ached, shuddered, and felt things that I myself had only read about in bad romance novels. And when he buried himself in into me so deeply it almost hurt to hold him, the sense of completion was overwhelming. I'd closed my eyes when he'd first entered me and hadn't opened them since, not allowing myself to think about what was happening, but rather to feel what we were doing. And when I cracked my eyelid, just for a glance, is when I noticed the mirrors.

I'd been to wrapped up in the man in front of me to see the multiple mirrors that were built into the canopy overhead, giving me a nice view of his back. The moonlight streamed through the curtains that covered the windows as just the right angle for me to see sweat that was beginning to bead there. I wrapped my calf around his ankle to prove if that was really me in my love's embrace.

I wasn't dreaming. This was really happening. "Oh, Mulder…" I sighed and buried my face into his neck while he maintained a slow, torturous pace.

It took us nearly an hour to finish, and I knew he was holding a few things back. That didn't really matter to me right now. All good things come to those who wait.

He'd rolled off of me, knowing I wouldn't be able to support his entire weight. I pulled the blankets up around us, even though they weren't going to be useful right away. Once the chill got to us, we'd both be grateful.

I rested my head on his chest, feeling his breathing and heart rate slowly evening out. He pressed a kiss to my hair and I suddenly felt so exhausted. The rumbling in his chest was like a sedative as I felt sleep coming to take me prisoner again.

"I love you, Scully. I'm not letting another day go by without reminding you." he vowed as that too-large hand engulfed mine again.

"I love you, too, Mulder. Know that I'm here for you when you need me and don't be afraid to talk to me about this stuff. Remember, I'm one of the few who'll listen." I tried a little humor.

The chuckle rumbled through him, comforting me a little. "Will do." I heard before I'd passed out.

I woke up the next morning to a knocking at the door. I knew it was probably later than I should've been in bed, but it was just to warm and comfortable to want to get out of it. I pulled my clothes on reasonably straight and went to answer it, knowing he was still asleep. I looked out to see Skinner at the door, not looking as authoritative as usual.

I opened the door, but I didn't speak. He'd said something, but I wasn't fully awake yet, so I don't remember what I replied with.

"How's he holdin' up?" he'd asked.

"He's hanging in there." I replied or something to that effect. I felt Mulder come up behind me dressed and Skinner said something about the FBI finding something. Mulder said we'd get our act together and meet him out there, wherever there might've been.

As soon as he shut the door though, I wrapped my arms around him again. God I felt like a clingy child who didn't want to let go of their stuffed animal. "It's gonna be alright." I said.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" he stroked my hair as he asked.

"A little of both." I replied.

"We've gotten through some pretty bad stuff before." Now he was the one who sounded unsure. "You just gotta have some faith. I have faith in you, and you're my guardian angel. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't here last night."

"I've got faith." I nodded, gaining strength the more I got my brain working. I did my best to ignore his last sentiment. "I have faith in you, and in us. We've got each other."

"And that's a lot for love." he joked.

I shook my head. _'Yeah, we'll survive.'_

_

* * *

**Okay, you gotta talk to me people. Bad, good, indifferent, let me know. Everything you tell me from that green button is motivation. XD**_


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